


The Atlantis Pride

by slytherinfixation



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:51:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinfixation/pseuds/slytherinfixation
Summary: When Colonel John Sheppard saves both himself and General O’Neill from some sort of squid-like drone, Sheppard learns about the Stargate Program and agrees to join one of the earth based gate teams. All that falls apart, of course, when Sheppard finds his Guide in one of the General’s men.





	The Atlantis Pride

Brigadier General Jack O'Neill had wanted to ask a million questions from the moment they were within sensing distance of each other. Instead, he'd held his tongue until they were alone in the air.

“You’re a Prime."

His pilot, an early thirties Colonel who'd been introduced only as 'Sheppard', didn't even glance over, "I am."

"An unbonded one."

Seventy-five percent of Sentinels were bonded by the time they were twenty-five. An unbonded Sentinel Prime in the Air Force should have drawn attention and O’Neill, being both _who_ and  _what_ he was, should have at least heard rumours about him.

"You’re, what? Mid-thirties?”

“Thirty-four, Sir,” Sheppard said. “Been online almost twenty-seven years.”

“You’re young for a full-bird,” O’Neill said and then rethought which part of that he’d focused on. “You were  _seven_ when you came online?”

Sheppard shrugged, “Not uncommon for a Prime.”

“I suppose not,” O’Neill said a little suspiciously. “What aircraft did you say you were qualified to fly again?”

Sheppard ignored the fact he hadn't previously said anything about which aircraft he could fly and began listing, “Apache, Black Hawk, Cobra, Osprey -”

“That’s a lot of training for the Antarctic,” O’Neill noted.

If the Air Force had been deliberately keeping this Sentinel a secret, it would explain why he’d never so much as heard a whisper of his existence.

“It was the one continent I’d never set foot on,” Sheppard said, without any outward signs – at Sentinel levels or otherwise – that this line of questioning bothered him.

“It’s one of my least favourite continents,” O’Neill said in an attempt to get him to elaborate.

“I kind of like it here,” the other Sentinel said.

“You like it here?” O’Neill asked in disbelief.

“Yes, sir,” Sheppard said.

“Alright, cut the bullshit,” the General said. “Why are you really here?”

“Sir?”

“You think I’d believe for one second that the Air Force sent what is probably the youngest Colonel they have, not to mention an _unbonded Prime_ that I’ve never even _heard of_ , to a base in the ass end of nowhere on a _whim_?” he asked the other man.

Sheppard glanced over at him, what little of his face O’Neill could see tilted up into an amused smirk, "I tried to tell them -"

“All inbound aircraft,” their radios crackled, cutting them off. “We have a rogue drone that could seek a target on its own. Land immediately and-”

“Too late,” Sheppard said, turning his attention back to the controls. A full second later, O’Neill heard the whine of an Ancient drone heading in their direction. “Hold on!”

There were a lot of pilots, even in the Air Force, who would have struggled to dodge a missile with technology like the drone; but Sheppard made it look easy. All the same, O’Neill’s heart was still pounding when they’d landed safely and the Ancient drone was lying stationary on the ground beside the helo.

“That was different,” Sheppard said, his own heartbeat sped up for the first time since O’Neill had met him.

“For me,” O’Neill said. “Not so much.”

“I realise you guys are working on classified stuff down here, but experimental weapons?” Sheppard asked as they climbed back into the helo. “You think they’d warn a guy.”

“Get me to the outpost in one piece,” O’Neill said. “And I’ll tell you  _everything_  you want to know.”

Sheppard fiddled with his radio, “Control, this is Ghost One.”

“We hear you loud and clear Ghost One,” the radio replied.

“The drone has been neutralised,” he said. “ETA seven minutes.”

“Copy that, Ghost One.”

“I’ve seen guys with far inferior senses who’ve been bonded for years zone in situations like that,” O’Neill commented as Sheppard lifted them back into the sky.

“I took advanced anti-zoning at test pilot school,” Sheppard admitted.

O’Neill huffed his disbelief and tried again, “What the hell are you doing in Antarctica?”

There was a long pause where he thought the other Sentinel wasn’t going to answer.

“There was an incident,” Sheppard finally said as the outpost appeared over the horizon. “In Afghanistan. My men estimated I killed at least forty men, maybe more.”

“And they sent you here instead of giving you a medal?” O’Neill asked.

Sheppard shrugged, “We had orders to bring them in alive.”

“Ah.”

Flying scientists around Antarctica was a punishment after all. Though with what Sheppard was, it would be a short lived one. An unbonded Sentinel Prime wasn’t a resource they’d let go to waste.

They came in for their final approach.

“It never would have happened if I had a Guide,” Sheppard said.

“And so you’re stuck here until you find one?” he returned. “That seems a bit counter productive – unless they want you to bond to a Penguin.”

Sheppard’s lips quirked into a smile, “Maybe. It’s probably safer for everyone that way.”

O’Neill remained silent as the other Sentinel landed the helo and began powering down.

“Come on,” he said. “There’s something I think you need to see.”

Sheppard followed after him, passing by a set of armed guards at the outpost entrance that were familiar from passed trips. They stood to attention at the sight of the General.

Inside the main entrance, where Sheppard had been allowed before but had never passed, the General walked to a table by which two more armed guards stood. Between them was a desk where a slightly bored looking airman sat. He shot immediately to his feet when he spotted O’Neill.

“Sir.”

“At ease,” O’Neill said, reaching for the clipboard he was quickly offered. “This is Colonel Sheppard. He’ll be accompanying me down.”

“Yes, sir,” the airman said, looking surprised.

Sheppard could understand why. He’d seen each of these men at least once every week or so for the last three months as he was the only pilot at McMurdo with high enough security clearance to even know this place existed. It meant he’d been making regular supply and personnel trips for months. They knew him and he knew them and as far as they’d been aware, he wasn’t cleared for whatever was currently sitting below their feet.

“Sign your name, Sheppard,” the General said, handing him the clipboard.

The Colonel did as asked before handing it back to the airman.

“Go on ahead, sir,” the airman said, gesturing them towards the door behind him. “The elevator is waiting for you.”

Sheppard followed O’Neill into what looked like a solid metal room.

“What the hell?” Sheppard asked when a blue light flickered up and down both their bodies.

“X-ray machine,” O’Neill said.

“I’m carrying my -”

“It’s not looking for weapons.”

As though in agreement, the door at the other end of the room clicked open. Sheppard frowned but followed the other man through into what looked like an elevator.

“How far down are we going?” Sheppard wondered, curious about the fact he couldn’t hear anything below him.

“It’s a five minute ride,” the other man said, pressing the button for them to descend.

Sheppard whistled, “That’s a long way down.”

O’Neill huffed an amused breath, “You’re telling me.”

Sheppard didn’t quite know what to make of that so remained silent and tried to stretch his hearing further.

“I’m curious,” the older man started conversationally a full minute later. “Did the Air Force ever run a formal Guide search for you?”

Sheppard shook his head, “No. They tried to keep my existence as low key as possible.”

“So they  _do_  know your Sentinel Prime status.”

“If by ‘ _they’_  you mean General Matheson,” Sheppard said. “Then yes.”

“General Jumper?” O’Neill asked, wondering if the Chief Sentinel of the Air Force had hidden this little secret from the Chief of Staff of the Air Force.

“He knows he has a Sentinel Prime,” Sheppard admitted. “He doesn’t know about me specifically.”

“Plausible deniability.”

“Something like that,” Sheppard agreed a little wryly.

“Did they search for your Guide at all?” O’Neill wondered.

“Nah,” Sheppard said. “Too risky.”

“You ever look outside the military?”

“Before I joined,” he said. “Didn’t have much of a chance after.”

O’Neill conceded the point just as they passed the sound barrier that the outpost was surrounded with.

“Wow,” Sheppard breathed, his hearing expanding to cover the whole outpost. He could hear a man tinkering with something metal, what was probably an airman cleaning his weapon, a couple of scientists babbling back and forth at each other. “That wasn’t a white noise generator.”

“No,” O’Neill smirked. “It wasn’t.”

“What is this place?”

“Welcome,” O’Neill said a little grandly as the elevator came to a dead stop. “To the Antarctic outpost of the Ancients.”

Before Sheppard could ask what the hell that meant, O’Neill had pulled the elevator door open and there was a man heading forward to meet them.

“Jack.”

“Daniel.”

Sheppard raised an eyebrow at the somewhat cool greeting between Sentinel and Guide.

“Warm welcome,” O’Neill continued.

“Wasn’t me,” Daniel said. “How did you manage to, uh…?”

“Keep from getting my ass blown out of the sky?” O’Neill asked, looking amused. “The exceptional flying of Colonel Sheppard. He _likes_ it here.”

“Exceptional,” the General’s Guide repeated and then actually paused, glancing at Sheppard. “You like it here?”

Sheppard shrugged, a little amused by the display.

The Guide’s attention was drawn away as the General reached out a hand to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

Sheppard turned away to look around, pretending not to notice as they greeted each other properly. A moment later his attention was drawn back as the General spoke to him.

“I’m needed for a meeting,” he said. “Don’t touch anything.”

“Yes, sir,” Sheppard said, waiting until the General had walked completely out of sight before walking around to have a look at the base. He extended his senses curiously to see exactly how big this place was when a presence distracted him.

A fairly average level five Guide was nearby, his heart pounding faster than normal, and Sheppard automatically listened for any sign of danger around him.

“I felt power I’ve never had before,” a voice heavily laden with a Scottish accent was saying. “I had it dancing all across the sky. It was magical, it really was.”

Sheppard began moving in that direction, still listening.

“They’re lucky,” the Scottish man continued and Sheppard could tell it belonged to the Guide. “I don’t know where it came from. I just tried to concentrate and the drone shut itself down.”

“So it was _you_ ,” Sheppard said as he entered the room.

He barely paid any attention to the group of Mundanes that scattered at the sight of him. He recognised several of them from his trips to and from the outpost and they obviously already knew he’d been involved in what had happened.

“Me?” the Scotsman asked nervously, turning to face him.

“You were the one who fired that thing at us,” Sheppard said, moving up the set of stairs to a lone chair sitting in the middle of the room. It seemed to be humming.

“Look, we’re doing research,” the scientist said a little more bravely, obviously having picked up from his Guide abilities that Sheppard wasn’t actually feeling any anger. “We’re working with technology that’s light years beyond us and we make mistakes. I’m incredibly, incredibly sorry.”

“Well, next time, just be a little more careful, okay?” Sheppard said, examining the chair curiously.

“If I have it my way, I'll never sit in it again,” the scientist said.

“What the hell was that thing anyway?” Sheppard wondered.

“You mean the drone?” the other man asked, continuing at his nod. “The weapon the Ancients built to defend this outpost.”

“The who?”

The other man’s heartbeat increased slightly from where it had returned to normal, like the question had surprised him.

“You do have security clearance to be here, don't you?” the Guide asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sheppard said a little impatiently. “General O’Neill just gave it to me.”

The Guide’s eyes widened, “Then you don’t even know about the Stargate.”

“The what?” Sheppard asked, suddenly wondering what the hell he’d walked into, listening with disbelief as the other man started explaining the Stargate Program to him. That’s probably why he honestly thought nothing was going to happen when he sat down in the chair.

“Don’t move,” the Guide told him before suddenly taking off.

Sheppard could hear his excited babble to O’Neill, his Guide and two other people. One of them was an unbonded Guide, a relatively high level six, while the other was a Mundane. The group of them came around the corner into the room a few moments later and it was the mundane woman who spoke first.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“Colonel Sheppard,” O’Neill said, stepping up onto the dais beside Sheppard and looking down at him. “I told you not to touch anything.”

“I just sat down,” Sheppard protested.

“Colonel,” the apparently Canadian Guide said, approaching him. “Think about where we are in the solar system.”

He did it automatically and then looked up at the images that appeared in disbelief, “Did I do that?”

“Yes,” the Canadian Guide said, walking quickly towards where he’d already got a laptop connected to the chair. “Now, whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”

*

When McKay finally let Sheppard leave the chair, General O’Neill intercepted him and pulled him into his makeshift office.

“I’m Dr Daniel Jackson,” the older man’s Guide introduced himself, holding out a hand towards Sheppard as he entered. He was sitting atop a filing cabinet off to one side and didn’t look like he planned to leave for this meeting.

“Doctor,” Sheppard said politely, shaking his hand. He moved away to slide down into the plastic chair opposite the desk, slouching in a way that couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen McKay so happy to be in the presence of a Sentinel,” Daniel said, smiling openly. “Especially an unbonded one.”

“He’s prickly for a Guide,” Sheppard commented, having spent the last hour and a half trying to acquaint his senses with said man, only to be rebuffed silently at every turn.

Daniel shrugged a little, “He’s had a tough time of it. Don’t take it personally.”

“Noted,” Sheppard said and then glanced at the General curiously. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

“I want you to join the Stargate Program,” O’Neill said.

“Doctor Weir has already tried to talk me into going to Atlantis,” Sheppard said.

“And I heard you tell her that you weren’t going on a potentially one way trip without your Guide.”

“I’m not leaving him behind,” Sheppard said.

“And I wouldn’t ask you to if you feel that strongly about it,” O’Neill said placatingly. “How would you feel about joining one of the gate teams here on earth?”

“Well, if nothing else,” Sheppard said. “It would beat Antarctica.”

“Ha!” O’Neill said, pointing a finger at the other man. “I knew it.”

Sheppard just smirked.

*

“ _Did you hear the General is personally giving some Colonel the VIP tour_?”

“ _Do you think the new guy’s going to replace the General on SG1_?”

“ _Can you feel that Sentinel? He’s a_ Prime.”

“ _I heard he’s here for the Atlantis mission, he’s got an even stronger ATA gene than the General_.”

“Listening to the rumour mill?”

Sheppard glanced at General O’Neill where he walked beside him, looking amused.

“You don’t have visitors much, do you?” Sheppard asked, amused.

“Nope,” O’Neill said.

“ _Am_ I replacing you on SG1?” Sheppard asked.

O’Neill shrugged, “Haven’t decided yet. With Daniel and I both retiring from the field, I don’t know if there’s going to be an SG1 to replace me on.”

“And if there isn’t?”

“There’s always SG2.”

Sheppard chuckled.

“Who knew your presence would cause such a fuss,” Daniel said as his footsteps finally reached them. “Every Guide above a level five is hoping they’ll be yours.”

Sheppard grimaced. It was rare, but Sentinels did occasionally bond with a Guide a level or two below them.

“They’ll be over it in a few days,” O’Neill said. “Once they all get a chance to meet you in person.”

“I can already tell you that none of them are my Guide,” Sheppard told him.

“We’ve got a stack of Guides off world at the moment - including a level six or two,” O’Neill said. “You never know.”

Sheppard glanced over at him with a frown, “I really don’t think –“

“You never know.”

“I’ve waited over a decade longer than most Sentinels,” Sheppard pointed out. “Almost three times longer than most Sentinel Primes.”

“The most powerful ones always take the longest,” Daniel pointed out. “Take Ellison for example.”

“He lived in that forest a long time,” Sheppard noted dryly.

“You’ve been in Afghanistan a long time,” O’Neill counted.

Sheppard shrugged, “Who are the level six pair in the PT room upstairs?”

“That’s Master Sergeant Shane Stackhouse,” General O’Neill said. “And his Guide, Gunnery Sergeant Maxwell Markham. They came as a package deal, Marines, both of them.”

“They’re almost as powerful as you two.”

“They are,” Daniel agreed just as they reached the stairs up to the control room.

“Time for the main attraction,” O’Neill grinned at the other Air Force officer as he led them up.

“Wow,” Sheppard said, taking in the Stargate through the large window.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” O’Neill said proudly.

“How long did you say you’d been doing this?”

“Almost ten years,” Daniel responded.

Sheppard didn’t have time to think of a sufficient response as the giant ring suddenly began to spin.

“What…?”

“Wait for it,” O’Neill said beside him.

The seventh chevron locked and the stargate engaged. Sheppard took an automatic step back at the pool of blue that rushed towards them. A shield of metal closed almost immediately over it.

“Walter?” the General asked.

The Sergeant at the controls looked at the computer beside him, “SG3, sir.”

“Open the iris,” O’Neill said.

Sheppard watched in fascination as the shield reopened and then a group of four men in full tactical gear stepped through.

“Until this moment, I still half believed you were pulling my leg,” Sheppard said.

O’Neill smirked in amusement as SG3 all headed out of the gateroom toward medical, “Come on, still lots more to see.”

Sheppard followed the two men out of the control room.

*

“Sir.”

“Sergeant,” Sheppard greeted, glancing only briefly at the Sentinel who’d taken up a spotting position as he lifted far more weight than any mundane man could.

He didn’t say anything else, allowing Sheppard to complete his normal weight routine in peace.

“You want me to spot you?” Sheppard asked as he placed the barbell back on its’ stand.

“Please,” the Sergeant said and the two men swapped.

“I hear you’re scheduled for the Atlantis Expedition,” Sheppard said after he’d taken a long sip of water.

“Yes, sir,” Stackhouse said, sounding a little breathless. “I’m fourth on the list of strongest gene carriers after you, General O’Neill and Dr Beckett.”

“Your Guide have the gene too?”

“Yes, sir. He’s number six.”

“Who’s number five?” Sheppard wondered.

“Major Lorne, sir,” he said. “He’s on SG11.”

“He a Sentinel too?”

“Guide,” the Sergeant said. “And a powerful one at that. He’s one of the highest level six Guides I’ve ever met.”

Very high level-six Sentinels and Guides sometimes flipped over into Prime territory when they bonded but it depended on the power of their other half.

“What about his Sentinel?” Sheppard asked.

“Unbonded,” Stackhouse said.

“He scheduled for Atlantis?”

“No, sir,” he said. “Marines only. The Major’s Air Force.”

Sheppard quirked an amused eyebrow, “Who’s decision was that?”

“Colonel Sumner’s, I think.”

“He’s the CO scheduled for Atlantis?”

“Yes, sir.”

They followed each other around the PT room for a while, talking quietly as they did. Sheppard had actually kind of forgotten what it was like to have a training partner who could keep up with a Sentinel of his strength.

“You must be Sergeant Markham,” Sheppard said when he sat down to take a giant gulp of water.

The Guide in BDUs who’d come in ten minutes ago and not taken his eyes off Stackhouse since glanced over at him, “Yes, sir.”

Stackhouse joined them a moment later, “You joining us for lunch, sir?”

Sheppard waved a hand, “You two go ahead. I’ll see you around.”

*

Sheppard startled awake at what felt like two or three in the morning and rolled out of bed faster than he ever had in his life. He was dressed in his BDUs and out the door in record time, heading towards the elevator.

General O’Neill was waiting for him in front of the infirmary door when he got there.

“I thought it might be you,” the older man said, looking vaguely amused.

“With all due respect, _sir_ ,” Sheppard said. “Get out of my way.”

O’Neill didn’t hesitate to comply but followed almost immediately after him into the infirmary.

There were a group of five men on a row of narrow beds off to one side, all of them in BDUs and looking like they could use a good shower. The second one along smiled at Sheppard when he spotted him. He was short and stocky with dark hair even more non-regulation than Sheppard’s, though he suspected it was more because it’d been a while since he’d had a chance to cut it than because he normally grew it that way.

He was also Sheppard’s Guide.

“Colonel,” O’Neill said. “Meet Major Evan Lorne. Major, Colonel John Sheppard.”

“Sir,” the Major said while his mundane team members looked on with open curiosity.

“Major,” Sheppard greeted before crossing his arms and determinedly not getting any closer.

“Let’s get Major Lorne out of here as soon as possible,” O’Neill said.

The doctor nearest to them nodded and hurried to comply. Sheppard watched his every move with sharp, unwavering eyes.

“Lorne and his team have been off world almost three weeks,” O’Neill said in an attempt to distract him. “They’re conducting a mining survey on PX3-227.”

“A mining survey?” Sheppard repeated, his eyes darting to meet his Guide’s in surprise.

“I have a degree in geology,” Lorne said.

He nodded and fell silent once again. A few minutes later, the doctor was finished and told Lorne he was free to go. He stood easily off the bed and shrugged his jacket back on, following Sheppard when he moved out of the room. They were silent until they were alone in the elevator.

“You staying in one of the VIP suites?” Lorne wondered.

“Yes,” Sheppard said. “Temporarily. You want to shower first?”

“Do _you_ want me to shower first?” Lorne asked, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“You smell like dirt,” Sheppard said a little wryly.

The Major laughed, “Not surprising. Will you be alright for a few minutes?”

Sheppard nodded, “I’m in VIP room four when you’re done.”

The Major nodded just as the elevator dinged and he got out to head presumably to his own room to get a change of clothes. Sheppard waited until the door was closed to lean back against the elevator wall, close his eyes and breath in his Guide’s lingering scent.

*

Sheppard knew when the Major was coming because his hearing hadn’t left the other man since they’d separated in the elevator.

“Come in,” Sheppard called when the other man knocked on the door.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, taking in the rather attractive sight of Sheppard sprawled on his back across the bed, his BDU pants still on but wearing only a tight black t-shirt on top. He lifted his head just enough to track Evan as he turned on the white noise generator by the door, put his bag down in the corner and then stood at the foot of the bed a little uncertainly.

Sheppard sat up and for a long moment they just stared at each other. Then Evan kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt and climbed up onto the bed so he could straddle his Sentinel.

“Hi,” Sheppard said.

Evan smiled at him, “Hi.”

The Sentinel only hesitated a moment before pulling his Guide’s head down for a kiss. John was dominant and demanding and Evan melted easily into it.

“What are you feeling?” John asked between kisses.

“All I can feel right now is you,” Evan said honestly, moaning when John’s lips travelled down his chin and neck to his pulse point.

“Good.”

Evan moaned again when John’s strong thigh pressed up against his growing erection. He reached out a hand to urge his Sentinel’s lips back to meet his own and before he knew it he was being rolled onto his back. A few more moments of kissing and John was sitting up to straddle Evan. He was about to protest but John reached down to pull his shirt straight over his head and it died in his mouth.

Then they were attached at the lips once again, Evan’s hands running over his Sentinel’s bare back as a firm thigh pressed down against his erection and didn’t let up. John’s shields went from full strength to completely gone in seconds and Evan sucked in a sharp breath that turned into a moan.

“Too much?” John asked, concerned.

“That feels incredible,” Evan told him honestly. “ _You_ feel incredible.”

“And we haven’t even gotten to have sex yet.”

Evan laughed into his Sentinel’s shoulder as John rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back.

When he’d calmed down, Evan started placing kisses there and slowly let his own shield’s down. It was John’s turn to moan.

From there, they couldn’t get the rest of each other’s clothes off fast enough.

*

When John awoke three days after he’d first set foot in Cheyenne Mountain, his Sentinel side felt completely and utterly content for the first time ever. He and Evan had spent the last two days with their shields completely down while they did nothing but fuck like rabbits to establish their bond.

“I’ve never felt so satisfied in all my life,” Evan murmured next to him, his mouth less than an inch from John’s left ear. He had both an arm and a leg thrown over John and didn’t appear to be planning to wake up fully anytime soon. John smirked and rubbed the hand of the arm he had wrapped around his Guide up and down the other man’s naked back.

“Well, at least that bodes well for our sex life for the next sixty odd years.”

Evan snorted a laugh.

They lay in comfortable silence for a little while longer.

“How long have you been with the Stargate Program?” John wondered.

“Since about the same time I made Captain,” he admitted. “We’d just begun discovering Naquada as an energy source so they put together an SG team specifically for mining surveys.”

“You ever miss flying?” John wondered.

“I get to fly 302s on a fairly regular basis,” Evan admitted.

“You ever been in actual combat?”

There was a moment of hesitation, “Not really, no.”

Sheppard just nodded.

*

When Evan woke next, John was sitting at the table in the room with food on the table in front of him.

“Did someone deliver that?” Evan asked, getting out of bed.

John was still completely naked so Evan felt perfectly fine moving to join him at the table in the same state.

“Yeah,” John said. “Dr Jackson dropped it outside the door and then left so I could go out and get it without running into him.”

Evan nodded.

“You must have been tired,” John noted.

Evan smiled slightly and shrugged, “You’ve got superior stamina, remember?”

John quirked a small smirk of amusement.

Evan was polite enough not to mention the flashes of satisfaction that flashed across their bond. Instead, he reached out to pull the foil covering off his food.

“At this time of the morning I’d usually be going for a run,” John said conversationally.

“Morning?” Evan asked in surprise, turning his head to look at the bedside clock.

“You were asleep for a while,” John said.

“Going off world on a regular basis has thrown my internal clock off balance,” Evan said. “It’s night on PX3-227.”

John paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, “Is that the planet you were on before you came back?”

Evan nodded, taking a bite of his own meal, “Yeah. It’s our third trip back there after we found a source of naquada and no sentient beings.”

John finally ate the piece of meat on the end of his fork, “This whole ‘going off world’ thing is still freaking me out.”

Evan smiled, “Understandable. I thought Davis was lying to me when he recruited me.”

John looked surprised, “Major Paul Davis? He's part of the Program?”

Evan nodded, “Yeah, liaison to the Pentagon. We met at a function for Sentinels and Guides in the armed forces. He apparently recommended me to General Hammond.”

John smiled a little wryly, “And I only got here because I have a ‘flashy’ gene.”

Evan pointed his fork at him, “That’s a complete lie. I heard about you saving General O’Neill’s ass.”

John laughed a little, “He’s going to end up hating me when that gets around.”

“I’ve been on another planet for three weeks and I already heard about it,” Evan pointed out.

“Good thing I’m not hanging around for long then.”

It was Evan’s turn to pause with his fork halfway to his mouth, “We’re not?”

The way John’s expression and emotions flickered suggested that it was going to take him a while to get used to everything being ‘we’ rather than ‘I’ from now on. It probably hadn’t yet really occurred to him that every future decision he made was going to involve Evan.

“Part of that whole ‘flashy’ gene thing means I’m a pretty sort-after candidate for Atlantis,” John said, putting his own fork down and looking at Evan head on. “I had been intending to tell General O’Neill that I’d be going now that I’m bonded but if that’s a problem -”

“Are you kidding?” Evan asked, grinning excitedly now. “I was one of the first people to volunteer for the Atlantis mission but Colonel Sumner didn’t accept me because I’m Air Force.”

“You want to go?” John asked, double-checking.

“Yes,” Evan said just as bluntly, making sure there was no confusion. “If Dr Beckett and Stackhouse hadn’t both had the gene, I’d probably already be on the list.”

John’s remembered his discussion with Stackhouse the other day.

“Huh.”

“What?” Evan asked, curious about the emotions flickering across his Sentinel’s presence.

“I just realised that the six people we’ve found with the most prominent ATA genes are all Sentinels and Guides,” John said.

Evan blinked, “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I wonder if Beckett’s realised yet.”

Evan shrugged, “Probably. I know McKay doesn’t have it, though, so it might just be a coincidence.”

“McKay?” John asked. “The Canadian Guide from Antarctica? No wonder he got so snippy with me.”

Evan raised an amused eyebrow.

John shrugged, “The whole time I was in the chair, he kept muttering under his breath about ‘stupid flyboys with floppy hair’.”

Evan laughed into his glass of water, “I think he likes you.”

John shot him a look.

“He’s called people much worse, trust me.”

John could just imagine.

“How far do you run?” Evan wondered in the silence that followed.

“Hmm?”

“On your early morning runs,” Evan reminded him of what started this whole conversation. “How far do you run?”

John shrugged, “Generally seven or eight miles.”

Evan smiled a little wryly, “And probably at a pace I can’t keep up with.”

“Probably,” John agreed a little apologetically. “Sorry.”

Evan shrugged, “I’ll stick to the gym.”

“We could do that together,” John said. “You won’t be able to spot me but I’d probably enjoy watching you work out.”

Evan allowed a slow smile to spread across his face at the flicker of arousal in John’s emotions. Pretty soon, their meals were forgotten.

*

“The General’s getting angsty,” John said from where they once again lay side by side three days later.

Evan paused where he was drawing idle patterns across his Sentinel’s chest with his fingers.

“John,” he said slowly. “The white noise generator in the corner is still on.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Which means you shouldn’t be able to tell anything of what General O’Neill is doing outside this room.”

“Um, oops?”

Evan pushed up on one elbow to look at the other man who was staring back at him sheepishly.

“Exactly how strong is your hearing?” Evan asked seriously.

John shrugged, “In ideal conditions?”

Evan nodded.

“About four miles?”

“Jesus,” Evan said and fell back onto his back.

“So,” John said a moment later. “Now might be the time to make a confession.”

Evan slowly pushed back up on his elbow and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You probably didn’t notice earlier because you’ve been so focused on other things but I’m a Prime. And now so are you.”

“What?” Evan asked, sitting up, but now that he knew to look for it he could feel it on his own. “Damn. I was always told if my Sentinel was strong enough we’d probably be a Prime Pair.”

John hummed his agreement.

“Fuck. Prime Pair. You’re going to want a Pride, aren’t you?”

John smiled a little sheepishly and Evan flopped back down on the bed with an amused huff.

*

“How are you feeling?” John asked as they finished getting dressed in clean clothes, the protections around the bonding room down for the first time in a week.

“Good,” Evan said honestly. “You?”

John smiled, “My senses have never been sharper.”

“Good.”

John stepped into his personal space.

“You ready for this?” he asked, slipping his arms around Evan’s waist.

“As I’ll ever be,” Evan smiled at the other man, leaning forward to place a kiss solidly on his lips.

They got distracted with kissing for several minutes before John pulled away with a laugh.

“Alright, sir, we’re coming.”

Evan tried not to think about General O’Neill listening to them kiss.

The two of them left the bonding room in the blue BDUs members of the SCG not scheduled for a mission favoured, Dr Jackson having delivered them with their breakfast that morning. Apparently General O’Neill had begun to loose his patience and had them delivered as a pointed hint.

They headed round to the elevator and took the elevator down to level 26 and entered the General’s briefing room from the door instead of the stairwell.

“Nice of you to join us, Colonel, Major.”

John’s only outward display of amusement was a tiny twitch of the lips.

Sergeants Stackhouse and Markham were already present, along with a mundane Marine Colonel.

“Colonel Sumner,” O’Neill introduced.

“Colonel,” John greeted.

“Colonel,” the other man greeted with a brief curl of his lip.

“I brought you here to ask if your plans have changed regarding Atlantis,” O’Neill said.

“They have,” John agreed.

“I thought they might,” O’Neill said. “Colonel Sumner has kindly agreed to take you and the Major on-board.”

From the feelings Evan was getting, he didn’t think Sumner had actually had much say in the matter.

“I appreciate that, Sir,” John said. “But there may be one minor problem.”

O’Neill raised an eyebrow.

“As a recently bonded Sentinel Prime, building a Pride -”

“You’re a Prime?” Sumner demanded before turning towards O’Neill. “Why was I not informed?”

“I had not thought it relevant until just now,” O’Neill said without even glancing at him. “But if your intention is to form a Pride…?”

“It is.”

O’Neill nodded and stood, the rest of them doing so immediately, “Stay here. I’ll only be a moment.”

The General had a white noise generator in his office that John pretended not to be able to hear through.

“Colonel Sumner,” he said when he re-entered the room. “You are relieved of duty. You’ll be reassigned in the morning.”

The older man’s lips pressed thin and his back stood straight, “Yes, sir.”

He turned on his heel and left without another word, his emotions raging. Evan winced at the feeling.

“Colonel Sheppard.”

“Sir.”

“You’re officially being reassigned as the Military Commander of the Atlantis Expedition.”

“Yes, sir.”

"Major Lorne, you're being reassigned as Executive Officer."

"Yes, sir."

“You have a week to make changes to the military contingent,” O’Neill said. “If you decide to add more Sentinels or Guides to the roster, that’s your prerogative.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let me know if you need any help recruiting from outside the program.”

O’Neill considered them dismissed and turned back towards his office.

“Actually, sir,” John said. “There is someone I could use help with from inside the program.”

O’Neill looked back with a raised eyebrow.

“Major Paul Davis.”

“Davis has been working a desk job for over a decade,” O’Neill said a little incredulously.

“He’s been working in Washington for over a decade,” John corrected. “We have no idea what kind of political climate we’ll be walking into.”

“That’s what Dr Weir is for,” he said a little wryly.

“Except Dr Weir is a civilian and has no military training to speak of,” John said. “Davis is a member of the Air Force and is quite capable of protecting himself. You have an SG team just for diplomatic missions, don’t you? I’m pretty sure all of _them_ are military.”

“They are,” Evan said helpfully.

“Fine,” O’Neill said. “But you’ll have to do most of the convincing.”

“I just need a plane to Washington.”

O’Neill considered him for a moment, “Very well. I’ll see what I can do.”

John nodded and O’Neill left the two bonded pairs alone.

“If either of you want to back out,” John said. “Now’s the time.”

“We’re in,” Stackhouse said without even having to look at his Guide.

“Very well,” John said, standing. They all followed suit. 

When they got back to John’s temporary quarters, Evan sat down on the bed and watched his Sentinel go about collecting some of his things.

“Do you already have people in mind for your Pride?"

"Several," John replied without turning around. "We'll have a few other stops while we're in Washington and I've got to make some calls at some point."

"And if I have a couple of suggestions?” Evan asked.

John glanced over at him, “Then I’m listening.”

“Sergeant Terrance Morrison and his Guide, Captain Keaton Polverini,” Evan said. “They’re a mid-range level five pair who specialise in rescue and recon, currently serving on SG15.”

John considered Evan for a moment, “Are you making this recommendation for personal reasons or from an XO’s perspective?”

“Would it make a difference?” Evan asked.

John moved to crouch before him, placing a hand on each knee, “Yes, but only because if it’s for personal reasons I’ll consider things other than their capabilities. If not, those will be the things I’ll base my decision to take them through the gate on.”

Evan visibly relaxed, “It’s a professional recommendation.”

"Anyone else?"

"Captain Andrew Merrow and his Guide, Lieutenant Kegan Sparrow." 

“I’ll ask the General for their files in the morning,” John said.

Evan nodded, “Thanks, by the way.”

“There are some things that are non-negotiable,” John said. “But that’s as your commanding officer, not your Sentinel. It might just take us a while to figure out the difference.”

Evan smiled and lent down to kiss him, “I look forward to it.”

*

John huffed as he flopped backwards on the bed.

Evan smiled and crawled over the edge of the bed to straddle his Sentinel, “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve spent over twenty years dreaming of having a Pride of my own,” John admitted like it was a secret, his hands coming up to rest on Evan’s hips. “I’ve finally found you and have the opportunity to make one and I’m in a position where forming a powerful Pride might actually be detrimental.”

Evan frowned, “What do you mean?”

“We’re going on a possibly one way trip, Evan,” John reminded him. “We’ll be stranded hundreds of thousands of light years from Earth and the last thing I want to do is form a ‘us’ and ‘them’ mentality with the mundanes.”

“Most of the men and women going have spent their whole careers surrounded by Sentinels and Guides with their own little politics they know they’ll never be a part of.”

“The military members of the expedition have,” John said. “We’re taking just as many civilians as we are military personnel.”

Evan seemed to consider this, running his hands up and over John’s shoulders to apply gentle pressure in an attempt to get him to relax.

“I know there’s no civilian Sentinels currently scheduled for Altantis,” Evan said. “But there _are_ four civilian Guides. Maybe you could ask Beckett or McKay how they think we should handle it. If, that is, you’re planning to bring them both.”

“I’m bringing all the civilian Guides that were already here,” John admitted. “And that’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Mhmm,” Evan hummed leaning down to press a brief kiss to his Sentinel’s lips. John caught him by the back of the head, though, and the conversation was over.

*

“Whatever it is, Colonel, it can’t possibly be as important as what I’m already doing.”

John watched McKay’s back in amusement as he moved from one computer to another.

“More important than whether or not you’re going to be a part of the Pride on Atlantis?”

McKay whipped around to look at him, “You’re forming a Pride?”

John just nodded.

“Are you _out of your mind_?”

John watched the other man with no small amount of amusement as he stared back at him in horrified disbelief.

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“No,” McKay snapped. “No it is not. Do you even fully comprehend what forming a Pride means?”

“Considering I did actually go to Sentinel school -”

“I’m not talking about that hocus pocus they teach you at Sentinel school,” the Guide said, his voice dripping with disdain. “I’m talking about a real live _Pride_.”

John just sort of stared at the slightly bewildering man in front of him.

“You know,” the other man said a little hysterically when John failed to really react. “With Guide scenting and – and -”

John raised an eyebrow, “Something wrong with Guide scenting?”

“Oh, no, Colonel, I enjoy nothing more than having a group of testosterone fuelled Sentinels sniffing me on a regular basis.”

There was a pause.

“You’re straight, aren’t you?”

McKay went ridged.

For centuries, Sentinels had been a consistent 90% male and only 10% female. Guides had a slightly more balanced ratio with 70% male and 30% female. Nobody really knew for sure why this happened, only that both the majority of male and female Sentinels actually favoured male Guides. A male Guide had a 1 in 3 chance of bonding, a female Guide only 1 in 9, and of those who bonded, the chances of getting a female Sentinel were slim.

Male Guides who found themselves solely attracted to women usually prayed never to bond at all if they weren’t one of the lucky few. Those that weren’t that lucky, spent their lives in a platonic bond with their Sentinel that outweighed any other relationship they had. It usually ended up making them both miserable.

“Yes, all right,” McKay snapped. “So what?”

John shrugged, “So I get why being around unbonded male Sentinels bothers you so much. But the majority of the Sentinels coming to Atlantis are already bonded.”

McKay narrowed his eyes, “And you think it’ll make it better if I go through emotional overload?”

John raised an eyebrow at him, “We don’t have to have sex with you to cure you of emotional overload, McKay.”

“That doesn’t mean I want you anywhere near me.”

John held up his hands in surrender, “Look, if you don’t want to be part of the Pride, don’t be. But the invitation is open whenever you want it.”

McKay made a disbelieving noise and then turned back to his work. John looked up at the ceiling, searching for patience, before turning on his heal and leaving the labs.

*

“Hey, doc.”

“Colonel,” Carson greeted with a smile, looking up from the microscope he’d been looking into. “What can I do for you?”

John moved a little further into the room, leaning up against the table the other man was working on.

“I wanted to talk to you about the Pride we’re taking to Atlantis.”

“Pride?” Carson asked, looking surprised, and then full on grinned. “Oh, that’s wonderful. It’s a relief to know that if this is a one way trip we’ll have an Alpha Prime Pair to look after us.”

John returned the smile and relaxed at the complete opposite reaction to McKay.

“I was hoping you’d want to be a part of it,” John said.

Carson smiled at him, “Thank you, Colonel. I’d be honoured.”

John rocked back on his heals slightly, “I know you’re not bonded but I also wanted to ask if there were any other Sentinels or Guides you wanted to suggest for the expedition.”

Carson smiled a little sadly, “Mine’s been a lonely journey, I’m afraid. I look forward to that changing.”

“Me too, doc,” John said, hesitated, and then beat a retreat with a simple wave. He was relieved when the other man just returned to his work and didn’t comment on John’s awkwardness.

*

“Once you’ve picked up Davis in Washington, I received permission for you to stop by Norfolk to pick up Harris and Underwood.”

John grinned and O’Neill raised an eyebrow.

“Old friends?”

John nodded.

“I’ve got in contact with Captain Reed's CO and he signed off on him and his Guide’s reassignment,” O’Neill continued. “I’ve also personally signed off on your requests for Merrow, Sparrow, Morrison and Polverini.”

John blinked in slight surprise. The General had worked fast.

"Thank you, sir.”

He waved him off and John went to find Evan so they could do one last thing before they left.

*

“Your foot is in my face, Lieutenant.”

“Sorry, Sergeant,” Lieutenant Kegan Sparrow said with an amused smile, moving said foot and narrowly avoiding Markham’s nose in the process. He reached out to grab said foot without really thinking about it and ran his fingers across the bottom like he used to do to his little siblings when they were kids.

He let out a rather manly shriek, considering, and pulled his foot away with a slightly embarrassed laugh.

John winced, “Ow.”

“Sorry, Sir,” he said quickly, rolling over to look at him. “Exactly how good is your hearing?”

“To be fair,” Merrow said from beside his Guide. “Even my ears hurt after that.”

“Markham’s fault,” Sparrow said, turning to stick his tongue out at said man.

“Oh god,” John said, throwing an arm rather dramatically over his eyes. “This is going to be like having half-a-dozen children, isn’t it?”

Captain Polverini snorted at the same moment Evan laughed and rolled into his Sentinel, making the whole Pride pile on the large Queen bed shift in the process.

“This was your decision, Colonel.”

The others shared grins of delighted amusement at their Alpha’s groan.

*

“General O’Neill wouldn’t tell me what this was about,” Major Paul Davis told John and Evan as they took the offered seats in his living room.

“It’s about Atlantis,” John said.

Davis, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, offered them both a beer, which they both accepted.

“Atlantis?” he asked. “I heard you’d been assigned as the new military commander.”

“I have,” John agreed. “And I want you to come with us.”

Davis blinked, “Me? Why?”

“You’re the best negotiator the Air Force has,” John said. “And I know from your file that you’re capable of handling yourself if things go bad.”

He frowned, “And Dr Weir agreed to this?”

“Dr Weir doesn’t have a say in the composition of the military contingent,” John said. “And, besides, no one will be able to say ‘no’ if you’re a member of my Pride.”

Davis smiled a little wryly, “I thought that might be what this was really about.”

John leant forward slightly, “I want you as a member of my Pride, Major, and I’m not going to deny that. That doesn’t mean I can’t see how useful you’ll be to me in the field even if you say ‘no’.”

“How long do I have?” Davis asked.

“Until?” Evan frowned.

“I have to make a decision?”

John stood and both men followed suit from habit, “We’re driving down to Norfolk tomorrow but we’ll be coming back to Washington before we head back to Colorado. You have until we get on-board the helicopter.”

*

“Lieutenant,” Captain Underwood barked. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sorry, sir,” Lieutenant Justin Harris said and rapidly fell back into place in line.

"You alright, LT?" one of the Sergeants asked as he jogged up beside him.

“I'm good Sarge,” Justin said. “I just - there's a Prime Pair heading straight for base by the feel of it.”

“What would they be doing here?”

“No idea.”

They returned to the drills they were supposed to be doing, all the while feeling the Pair getting closer and closer until they actually came into view, Colonel Simmons with them. Their dress blues made them stand out immediately, giving them away as Air Force rather than the Marines or Navy Justin was expecting.

Justin's Sentinel came to a stop in front of the group on the next pass and turned to salute the Air Force Officers.

"Captain Underwood," the Sentinel with eagles on his shoulder greeted, returning his salute with an upturned smirk and confirming Justin's suspicions that his Sentinel knew the other man.

"Sir," Underwood greeted, his eyes flicking to the Major at his side. "You've bonded."

"So have you," the Colonel said, looking amused. "Major, meet Captain Luther Underwood. Underwood, Major Evan Lorne. "

Underwood turned and gestured Justin forward, "Sir, my Guide - First Lieutenant Justin Harris. Lieutenant, meet Colonel John Sheppard. Our  _Alpha_."

There's a startled murmur amongst the company and Justin sucks in a sharp breath of surprise at the announcement. 

He and Luther have been bonded all of six months - since the day the Captain showed up on base, recently reassigned and  _really_ unhappy about it. He didn't talk about what he'd been forced to leave, and Justin hadn't wanted to push but he'd still managed to figure out the bare bones of it. He'd had a CO - the Colonel, no doubt - that he'd admired and respected but something had gone wrong on a mission in Afghanistan and the whole company had been split up and reassigned.

He hadn't realised the CO he'd been forced to leave was also a Sentinel, let alone a  _Prime_.

A Prime that was just recently bonded.

"Sir," Justin said.

"Lieutenant," the Colonel said, eyeing him intently for a long moment. "If you'd both come with me, we have some things to discuss." 

*

When they get to a room that’s clearly been put aside in advance, the white noise generators are already on.

“Have a seat,” the Colonel said, gesturing them towards the table.

They took the two seats to his left, away from his Guide.

“I’ve recently been given command of a new program being run out of Cheyenne Mountain,” the Colonel began.

“In Colorado Springs, sir?” Justin asked, a little disbelieving.

“Yes,” Sheppard said. “And we’re forming a Pride.” 

“But you should be aware that you’re not just agreeing to a Pride here,” Major Lorne said. “You’re also agreeing to being reassigned, probably permanently.”

“To Cheyenne Mountain,” Luther said.

“Yes,” the Major agreed.

“Why don’t we give them the confidentiality agreement now?” Sheppard said.

The Major opened the briefcase he was carrying and pulled out a stack of paper two inches thick, dropping it down in front of each of them.

“What the hell have you gotten us into this time, Colonel?"

Sheppard just grinned.

Justin stared down at the paperwork himself, having been kind of stuck on the whole idea of potentially spending the rest of his career in a mountain state-side and then possibly the rest of his life in Colorado Springs. But there was no way that the pile in front of them was a confidentiality agreement for a position that wasn’t in a war zone.

Now that that problem was out of the way, Justin was actually considering the pros and cons of having an Air Force Colonel as an Alpha. They were likely to have their careers fast tracked with a Sentinel Prime’s backing. They were also going to have a lot of others, depending on how big the Pride turned out to be, who’d have their backs both in the field and with superior officers.

“Can I ask a few questions, sir?” Luther asked.

The Colonel tilted his head, “I might not be able to answer them but you’re welcome to ask.”

“Are we going into a war zone, sir?”

“Probably.”

If they hadn’t been, he would have just said ‘no’ and if they definitely were, he most likely would have declined to answer. There was the possibility he didn’t actually have an answer. High-ranking Sentinel he may be, but he was still a Colonel, and while the military had an obligation to assign bonded pairs as well as Pride members together, they had no obligation to let them choose where exactly that would be.

“How many Sentinels and Guides are you inviting into your Pride?” Justin asked.

“We’ve already got four definite bonded pairs,” Major Lorne answered this one. “Along with three unbonded Guides.”

Justin glanced at his Sentinel to find that he was already looking back.

"We're in," Luther said.

Sheppard nodded in acknowledgement.

“I realise that right now this is more about your career than anything,” the Major said, leaning forward across the table so that Justin met his eyes. “But I do hope that you really do become a member of our Pride in every sense of the word, Lieutenant.”

Justin lowered his head in deference, “Thank you, Alpha Guide.”

The Major sat back, looking satisfied.

Colonel Sheppard grinned and gestured towards the confidentiality agreements, “Then sign away, gentlemen.”

Almost a full hour later, when they were all done, the Colonel gestured towards his Guide, “Major Lorne here has more experience with the program than I do so he’ll do most of the explaining.”

And that, right there, was when Justin had his life flipped completely on its head.

*

“Captain Reed and Lieutenant Bolton arrived this morning,” Lieutenant Sparrow said as he bounced along beside them. “And Major Davis and Dr Beckett should be out of their bonding period by tomorrow.”

John and Evan had returned to the mountain three days ago to endless meetings with both military brass and other senior members of Atlantis’ staff while their new Pride members slowly trickled onto base. Davis had been waiting for them at the helicopter, just as John had known he would be, only to arrive on base and find out Beckett was his Guide.

Having bonding hormones on base had them all on edge, particularly the Sentinels. Other than a heightened sex drive that was fairly normal in newly bonded pairs anyway, Evan was impressed John hadn’t yet shown any signs of being effected. He had noticed the other Sentinels giving him a particular amount of space, though that might have been because he was now an Alpha and not because he was warning them off in a way Evan didn’t understand.

“Most of them will hear this anyway,” John said, recapturing Evan’s attention. “But spread the word that we’ll be having our first Pride meeting tomorrow night. We’ll go to that steak place everyone keeps raving about, my treat.”

Sparrow grinned, “Yes, sir.”

He darted off down the next hallway they passed and Evan and John were left alone. Evan reached for John’s hand and smiled when the other man met him half way.

“That’s generous of you,” Evan said.

John shrugged, “Did I mention the whole trust fund thing earlier?”

“No,” Evan said with a raised eyebrow. “Good to know, though.”

“Not going to be worth much when I’m halfway across the universe.”

“True,” Evan agreed.

*

O’Malley’s Bar & Grill was something of a favourite among SGC personnel. As such, the staff and locals were fairly used to men and women in military uniforms coming around on their off time. A couple of the wait staff pushed some tables together and made no protest to the group of fifteen or so taking up half the restaurant on a Wednesday night.

When they were all distracted using the time to find their seats getting to know each other, John made a detour to start a tab. The guy at the counter blinked in surprise at the platinum card but didn’t otherwise comment and John was sliding into the seat between Evan and Underwood before anyone else visibly noticed. None of the Sentinels at the table mentioned having overheard but John knew that being in a Pride meant they all had half an ear on their Alpha at all times so didn’t doubt they had.

It was a far bigger Pride than John had really planned on having straight away with seven bonded pairs and two unbonded Guides. He’d kind of been hoping to have _three_  unbonded Guides by tonight but Mckay was still being stubborn about the whole thing and had refused his invitation to dinner. He didn’t let it bother him, sitting back to enjoy the atmosphere of his Pride with a smile.

*

Later that same night, John had his nose pressed almost to Captain Polverini’s neck when he paused in surprise.

“Colonel?” Sergeant Morrison asked worriedly. Most Sentinels would hate having another Sentinel this close to their Guide, especially a Prime, but the Alpha of his own Pride was a special exception.

John pulled away, “Sorry, Captain, but I’m not actually finished yet. Give me a second?”

Polverini nodded his acceptance.

“John?” Evan asked pulling away from Sparrow’s questing nose with a gentle nudge to the other man’s chest.

“McKay,” he said and then turned to walk towards the door. When he opened it, the Guide was still hesitating on the other side, wringing his hands. He stopped, though, when he spotted John, who closed the door behind him to give them the illusion of privacy.

“Colonel,” he said stiffly, putting his hands by his side and attempting to look far calmer than his beating heart suggested he was.

“Guide McKay,” he greeted.

McKay flinched at the title and John suspected there was far more to the other man’s dislike of Sentinels than he’d said.

“Is it… Am I too late?”

“To join the Pride?” John guessed.

He nodded with his fists clenched.

“I’m barely even half-way through Guide scenting,” he said, gesturing towards the door in open invitation.

McKay hesitated, “This doesn’t mean you get to boss me around.”

“McKay,” John said. “I'm the CMO of the Atlantis Expedition. If I ever tell you to do something for your own protection you sure as hell better hope you follow my every order to the letter.”

McKay flinched.

“But if you are not in danger of any kind, I’ve pretty much accepted that you’re going to argue with me every step of the way,” John finished.

McKay’s eyes darted across his face nervously before his expression firmed and he nodded once. John followed him back into the room where Drs Kusanagi and Zelenka swarmed McKay with open enthusiasm. John just smiled in amusement and went to find Polverini to finish what he’d started.

The Pride was finally complete.

**Author's Note:**

> I've sat on this little piece of work for almost a year with the intention of one day turning it into a full-blown novel length fic. Unfortunately, it never made it any further than this and is honestly unlikely to. I hope you enjoyed it :)


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